<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>father knows best by parkrstark</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26167273">father knows best</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkrstark/pseuds/parkrstark'>parkrstark</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, M/M, Peter gets his powers, Pre-Spider Bite Peter Parker, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Sickfic, Superfamily, Vomiting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:07:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,316</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26167273</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkrstark/pseuds/parkrstark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Why can't I go?" Peter asked, genuinely lost. </p><p>Dad only glanced up from the book he was reading, his glasses perched on his nose. "You know exactly why." </p><p>"I don't! It's a field trip! Everyone else is going!"</p><p>"If everyone else was jumping off a bridge, would you do that too?" Dad asked, looking back down at his book. </p><p>Or, the Superfamily fic where Peter gets bit by the spider.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Parker &amp; Steve Rogers &amp; Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>381</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>father knows best</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for a friend that asked for a Superfamily AU fic with Peter getting his powers. This is my first time ever attempting to write Peter getting powers, so I hope it's good. I enjoyed writing some sickfic, as I rarely do that. Also, the closest thing I will ever write to a field trip fic lol</p><p>Peter is 14 in this fic, and sinced it's from his POV, he refers to Steve as Pops and Tony as Dad</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Peter's parents were never overly strict. Protective, sure, but never too strict. Their rules were only there to protect him and usually weren't too bad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But when Peter brought home a permission slip for a field trip at Oscorp and Dad said no, he didn't understand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why can't I go?" Peter asked, genuinely lost. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dad only glanced up from the book he was reading, his glasses perched on his nose. "You know exactly why." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't! It's a field trip! Everyone else is going!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If everyone else was jumping off a bridge, would you do that too?" Dad asked, looking back down at his book. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's not fair!" Peter groaned. "I'm just asking to go on a field trip! Why are you giving me such a hard time?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Peter." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Peter could argue again, the elevator dinged, letting them know Pops was home. Peter immediately turned to face it, and when Pops walked in, he said, "Pops! Dad won't let me go on a field trip." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was Dad's turn to groan. "Peter, can you give your father a second to come inside?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pops was still in his uniform from whatever mission Fury had him doing today, but he didn't look exhausted or burnt out. He was actually staring at the two of them in amusement. "What's going on here?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter waited for Pops to pull him in for a hug and kiss before he said, "Dad said I can't go on a school trip that </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone </span>
  </em>
  <span>is going on</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pops was giving Dad his kiss when he answered, "Well, I'm sure Dad has his reasons. What's the field trip?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A tour around Oscorp." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh," Pops said. "Well, no is no, Pete. I'm sorry."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter groaned dramatically. "But </span>
  <em>
    <span>why? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Just because you're enemies doesn't mean I can't go on the trip! I've heard his labs are awesome!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm going to pretend like you didn't just say that. Stark Industries' labs are a million times better. Tell your teacher to book a trip here and I'll sign that." Dad took his glasses off as Pops sat down next to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why can't I go?" Peter repeated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Because I know how he runs his business. It's dangerous and not safe. I don't care what he's doing in the name of science, I don't want my son around it." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But we'll be with 2 other teachers and--." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Your father said, Peter," Pops said, using his stern voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter let out one more dramatic groan before giving up, stomping his foot childishly and storming off to his bedroom. Of course not before shouting, "You're so annoying!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he had taken the conversation more seriously, he wouldn't have forged his Dad's signature the minute he was in his room. And if he hadn't done that, he wouldn't have been stuck in the situation he was in now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was walking through their laboratories where they were performing tests on spiders. Peter didn't entirely understand why they were, but seeing bright red and blue spiders was actually pretty cool to see. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was snapping pictures of them as he walked, pausing behind his class to get good shots. He'd have to remember to delete these pictures before showing this SD card to his dads. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as he captured the perfect shot of a spider spinning its web behind a glass cage, he felt a sharp pain on the back of his neck. He was glad he had his strap around his neck so his camera didn’t fall when he let go of it to slap his hand over the back of his neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced behind him to see if anyone saw what happened, but no one was paying him any attention. He pulled his hand off his neck and looked down at his palm, but didn’t see anything. He knew something bit him though, that wasn’t a phantom pain. He shook his head and hurried his pace to catch up to his classmates. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now as he walked, he kept close to them to avoid wandering off and getting bit again. Already, his entire neck felt like it was burning and he was gritting his teeth through the pain of it all. He didn’t really think telling any scientist here that he was bit by one of their experiments and then he promptly killed it was a good idea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only a few minutes later, Mr. Harrington came up to him and asked him with concern in his eyes, “Are you okay, Peter? You look very pale.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In fact, Peter felt seconds away from passing out, so when Mr. Harrington pressed the back of his hand against his forehead, Peter leaned into the cold touch of his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re burning up…we need to get you back to the school. I can’t have kids passing out on field trips again. At least wait until you’re back on school property.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter barely understood the words he was saying as he led him away from the group. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll call your parents and they can come pick you up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter definitely heard </span>
  <em>
    <span>that. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“No, it’s fine! They’re on an important mission," he lied. "I don’t wanna bother them.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Harrington frowned. “Well… we have to call someone.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter desperately wished one of his dads could come pick him up, take care of him when he was sick, and tell him it was all going to be okay. But he couldn’t have that. “I’m fine. I don’t need to go home.” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Mr. Harrington paused. “Are you sure? I really don’t want to be puked on again. Be there, done that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter waved him off. “Yeah. Don’t feel nauseous.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, but if that changes...let me know. Please.” Mr. Harrington hesitated before walking away, glancing over at him occasionally. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite the nausea he felt, thankfully, he was able to hold his breakfast down for the rest of the afternoon. He didn’t even pass out once. Sure, sometimes his vision went dark for too long, but it was never enough to faint. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter was just grateful that Ned was home sick today, so that he wasn’t all over him and worried. It was kind of ironic how Peter insisted to his dads that everyone was going, when his best friend wound up not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would have liked his support while walking, but he didn’t need to worry him more than necessary. Ned was definitely a worrier, and he’d definitely let it slip to Dad or Pops the next time he came over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Peter kept to himself, staying towards the back of the group with Mr. Harrington standing by him, just in case. When their trip finally came to an end, Peter was the first one out of the building and in the bus. He pressed his head against the window, trying to cool himself down any way possible. It was January and there was snow on the ground, and still, he felt like he was stuck in a sauna. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t even remember the second part of his day: getting back to school, taking the subway home, and crashing in his bedroom. He was glad that Dad and Pops weren’t in any of the common rooms as he stumbled to his bedroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could barely see through his blurry vision even though his glasses were still on his face. He tripped over something, probably a Lego set and fell on his face as he tried to make his way to his window. He groaned in pain and laid there for a moment before pushing himself up to his feet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t have much muscles to start with, but he was definitely strong enough to open his window on a normal day. However, now, he could barely lift it up as he grunted and groaned. When he had it open, he stuck his head out into the freezing January air and still only felt his own skin burning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he stayed in that spot any longer, he knew he’d probably fall out of the open window, so he pushed himself backwards and stumbled over to his bed. He pulled off his coat, and his sweatshirt, and his t-shirt before falling face first into bed and struggling out of his pants as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once he was stripped down to his boxers, and a little bit cooler, he curled up on his bed and laid there, waiting for death. Because that was the only thing that could justify this feeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, death never came. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was in a death like state, but still kicking when he felt a cold hand cup his cheek. He tried to blink his eyes open, but the lights around him hurt too much. So he let out a whine and shut them again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baby, why didn’t you tell one of us you were sick?” That was Dad, Peter could tell just by the calluses on his hands too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s like an icebox in here,” Pops said before his window was shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter tried to tell him to open it again, but it didn’t sound like real words at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dad hushed him and caressed his cheek again. “You can’t freeze yourself. I know you feel hot, but you can’t freeze yourself.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then there was a blanket pulled over him, and Peter immediately tried kicking his feet. The blanket was too rough on his skin. He needed it away and off. He managed to get it off with a grunt, and Dad didn’t replace it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve never seen him so sick,” Pops said, now sounding closer once the window was shut. “Pete, have you felt like this all day?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter just shrugged his shoulders, glad that he could use his sickness as a way to avoid telling the truth about going on the field trip. He tried to turn his head into his pillow, but Dad wouldn’t let him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re burning up. Maybe some medicine will help.” Dad leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead and Peter didn’t have the heart to tell him that some medicine probably wouldn’t help with a bite from a radioactive spider. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll go get it,” Pops offered and he was out of the room instantly while Dad sat there and continued to rub his hands through his hair. When Pops came back, he said, “Sit up, Pete, so you can swallow this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter let out another whine and didn’t sit up until Dad helped pull him up. Pops brought the small cap to his lips and Peter drank it, keeping his eyes closed the entire time. Once he was done, he went to go lay back down, but it was as if his stomach knew the second that something was trying to come in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t get to his feet fast enough before he was falling to the ground and throwing up whatever his stomach could expel. When there was a hand on his back this time, he knew it was Pops. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright, bud. Get it all out,” Pops whispered, rubbing his back as Peter gagged again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘M sorry,” Peter mumbled once his stomach stopped cramping up and causing him to heave. He wanted to let himself fall to the ground, uncaring of the sick that was now covering his carpet, but Pops caught him in his arms and effortlessly lifted him up. That was a perk for having Captain America as your father; you could fall asleep anywhere and he could always carry you to bed. Peter used that trick hundreds of times. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No apologies. Let’s bring you to me and Dad’s room while we have this room cleaned. Love, can you get him a t-shirt and sweatpants?” Pops started carrying him out of the room, gentle and making sure not to jostle him too much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laid him down on their bed once he got to their room and Pops brushed some of his hair off of his forehead. “I’m going to get a damp cloth to wash your face and I’ll be right back.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t leave him alone because right as he left, Dad was at his side, helping to dress him in the shirt and pants he brought. Peter tried his best to help do most of it by himself, but his limbs were so heavy, and he didn’t understand why. Once he was dressed again, and feeling less hot than before, Dad laid him back down and started to tuck him in. “Are you feeling better?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh,” Peter managed to say. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. Well, Pops is coming back in with a washcloth and a bucket just in case. You should try to get some rest. We’ll keep an eye on you and call your doctor if it gets worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No doctor,” Peter said because then they’d see his bite and find out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dad chuckled, not understanding </span>
  <em>
    <span>why </span>
  </em>
  <span>he insisted on no doctor. “No arguments on that, bambino.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No arguments on what?” Pops asked, walking into the room again. He was by Peter’s side within seconds and wiping at his mouth with the cloth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pete said no doctors.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sorry, bud. That’s definitely nonnegotiable. Especially if your asthma starts acting up. The second you start wheezing and coughing, we’re making the call.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter pouted, hoping they would be able to see his lower lip stuck out and slightly wobbling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not gonna work,” Pops said. “Especially with those big brown eyes closed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter couldn’t help but let his lip quirk slightly at that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re going to let you get some sleep, baby, and we’ll check in with you later.” Dad leaned down to give him another kiss, and then so did Pops, before they both left him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once he was alone, he did his best to ignore the pain in his head and his stomach, and let himself fall asleep. Maybe he’d wake up and it’d be better. He tossed and turned for what felt like hours and then he must have fallen asleep. But his sleep only felt like a moment of closing his eyes before he was waking himself up with a scream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nausea and the dull headache were gone, replaced by something so much worse. His body felt like it was on fire, not because he was hot again, but because he was in searing pain. He thrashed his legs wildly as he gripped the sheets as tightly as he could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let out another shout, ending it with a cry. He just wanted it all to stop and end. He wanted his dads to come in and make it all better. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, after that scream, they came running in the room. Peter had a sudden resurgence of energy and strength he didn’t have before falling asleep ,probably because of the adrenaline from all of the pain. He shot up in bed and looked over at Dad and Pops, who were still slightly blurry without his glasses on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pops made it to his side first, and he hesitated by the side of the bed. “What’s wrong, Peter? What hurts?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“E-Everything!” He sobbed, tears falling down his cheeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What can we do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know!” Peter didn’t know. He just wanted it to end. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Steve," Dad said, sounding desperate. "What do we do?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know," Pops' reply sounded just as panicked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter didn't want to hear how worried they were. He wanted them to make it all okay, but if they were worried, then Peter couldn't help but be worried tenfold. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pops must have sensed this because he pulled Peter in for a hug and held him snug against his chest. "It's okay, bear. You're going to be alright." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm going to call his doctor." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll stay with him." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter couldn't even argue for Dad to stay because in that moment, another burst of pain felt like it was burning his entire body and he let out a small gasp, leaning into Pops, knowing he was still being held before he gave into the darkness clawing around him.  </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>When Peter woke up, he felt fine. All of the pain was gone, as if it was never there. There wasn’t even an ache in his body. He blinked his eyes open and the world was clear as day in front of him, even clearer than his vision when he had his glasses on. He rubbed at his eyes and his heart skipped a beat when he realized his glasses weren’t on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat up, surprised that he was even able to and glanced around the room. He didn’t see anyone in the room with him, not even one of his parents. It was obviously one of their medbays, typically saved for the Avengers after a bad mission. The only time Peter was ever in here besides for a visit was one summer when he broke his leg, and the few times he’s had bad asthma attacks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter swung his legs off the side of his medical bed and stood up. He thought he’d need a moment to gain his balance, but he was fine. He blinked a few times and looked down at his body. He was still dressed in the t-shirt and sweats Dad got for him, but the sleeves were a little tight on his arms...his now </span>
  <em>
    <span>muscular </span>
  </em>
  <span>arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell?” He whispered to himself as he lifted his too small t-shirt and saw that his chest and stomach wasn’t as frail as he was before he got sick. He had abs, like real abs that the football players had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let go of his shirt to let it fall, but then realized that he couldn’t because his hands were stuck to his shirt. He waved his hands wildly to try and get them to un-stick, but the cloth stayed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter was definitely starting to get worried. “Shit,” he cursed as he tried yanking his shirt off and didn’t think that he would be able to rip the shirt right off of himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes widened as he stared down at the torn shirt, still attached to his hands. He waved them furiously, hoping they would fall off before someone came in. “Come on,” he muttered. “Get off. Get off. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, it fell off of his hands to the floor as if they were never stuck. He stared down at the pieces with a furrowed brow and then quickly ran over to where Pops had one of his sweatshirts thrown over a chair. Even with his new muscles, it was large enough to easily hide it all. He usually curled up in one of his dads’ sweatshirts when upset, so they wouldn’t see anything wrong with this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was proved right when Dad and Pops hurried into the room not long after he got himself back in bed, the torn t-shirt thrown away. They immediately rushed to his side, but hesitated before touching him, as if they were afraid he was going to break on contact. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m okay,” Peter told them, giving them a small smile to hopefully assure them he was fine. He was more than fine, but he wasn’t going to let them know, both because they don’t need to know that and Peter wanted a little extra coddling from them if they thought he was still sick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dad scooped him into a hug first and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “Oh, baby, you had us so worried.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter smiled and enjoyed being held. “Sorry, Dad…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pops came over next and gave him his hug. “I knew you’d find the sweatshirt, bud.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Pops.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome, bear.” Pops kissed the top of his head and pulled him into a hug. “You sure you’re okay? You were...really bad just hours ago.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter didn’t know what the spider did to him or if he was really going to be okay, but as long as he had his dads there by his side, he’d be okay. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! I left it kind of open because we all know what Peter does with these powers and that he chooses to be a superhero just like his dads, I just didn't think he'd think of that right away. </p><p>Until next time,</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>